Eclipse: Darkness Falling
by CheleSedai
Summary: In a world of censorship and institutional slavery, a few harbor hope for change ... and a few will dare to fight the system to achieve it. Alternate Universe, multi-universe crossover between BtVS, Highlander, and Tomorrow People. WIP.
1. Author's Notes & Introduction

**Eclipse - Book One: Darkness Falling**  
by M. Bumbarger

**Disclaimer & Notes**

To start, this is a work in progress. It's a little idea I toyed with for a while and then set about putting to paper in the spring of 1999. Every now and then, I pull it out, tweak a bit and add another chapter. I don't know when it will be finished, but I do know that it has held my interest for two years, which is far longer than most of my unfinished work manages to last before deletion. I have a full outline and plan, it's just a matter of getting it there. So, just sit back and consider me the Robert Jordan of fandom (or, for those unfamiliar with Robert Jordan, just think of Stephen King's ongoing Dark Tower series).

First let it be known that this is a weird one. This is a multi-universal crossover (involving Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, Highlander: The Series, New Series Tomorrow People, and Original Series Tomorrow People), but not in the way that one would probably expect. In this case, this is an entirely different timeline and an alternate universe (alternate to all of the series' canons' universes). In this universe, the characters appear in somewhat different incarnations; sometimes with different names, and certainly in different relationships with one another. Sound confusing? I hope that it isn't; I am trying to write this in such a way that you will recognize the characters from personality and physical descriptions.

The Plot: Imagine an alternative world where you can engineer your perfect child, where genetic manipulation is the norm. Imagine a world where even the power of magick is often not power enough to stand against the evils of technology. Imagine a world where psionic powers are valued by the government and military and those possessing these powers are 'harvested' and 'trained' and made second class citizens to live their lives as the government dictates. This is the world of Eclipse where a small handful of rebels, known as the Coalition, strive to upset the balance of power and create a world of equality and freedom for all. A world where your best friend might be your enemy and your enemy the only friend you have. A world where only the rich and powerful are allowed to ignore the laws because they make the laws; a world that is slowly decaying and falling to pieces and no one is yet the wiser.

Disclaimer: None of these characters, television shows, or concepts belong to me. The Tomorrow People are the property of Roger Damon Price, Thames/ITV Television, and Tetra Television. Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Highlander: The Series characters belong to Panzer/Davis, Rhysher Entertainment and Gaumont Television. All are used here without permission and not for profit. All original characters are the by-product of my own warped and twisted imagination. 

Feedback: I crave it, live for it, and need it like mammals need oxygen to breathe. Send all comments and encouragement to mbumbarg@pair.com. All flames and discouragement may be sent to im-not-listening@I-don't-care.com They will immediately sorted into the virtual circular file.

Michele Mason Bumbarger

03.20.2001


	2. Prologue: Gyre

**Eclipse - Book One: Darkness Falling**  
by M. Bumbarger

_Turning and turning in widening gyre_

**Prologue : Gyre**

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."

Leaning comfortably back against the wall of the confessional, the priest nodded. This would be his last confession of the day, and for that he gave a small prayer of thanks. Then, realizing precisely how sacrilegious and petulant that relief was, he grimaced inwardly. He was true to his faith, no matter how much the government had twisted and mutated it into what they wanted it to be to keep the Unified Alliance strong. "How long has it been since your last confession?"

"I have never been to confession. I am not Catholic."

Those words caused him to sit up straighter, as though a bolt of electricity had been sent through his entire body. Yet, his voice remained calm. "Child, there is but one religion in the Unified Alliance and that is the true religion of our Lord and Savior and his blessed Mother. We are all Catholic and we are all His children."

"And where there are those gathered in my name, I am there."

The bible verse was both a light of hope and a tentacle of fear that wrapped itself around his heart. Each time he went through this, he knew he was walking a fine line between freedom and imprisonment. Each time, he gave a small prayer that the person on the other side of the confessional was truly one of his own, and not a spy or infiltrator. That would mean trial and death for the charge of treason.

That would mean the end of his work here forever.

"What weighs heavy upon your soul my child?" The priest asked quietly, his heart pounding so loudly he wondered if the parishioner could hear it as well.

"I wish to know if the gates of heaven are open to all of God's children no matter what their sin or crime."

The code words yet again. Words that held meaning for him, but would hold meaning for no one else listening to the conversation . . . if anyone was listening. The government insisted that the confessional was still sacred but he did not trust the government any more than his father had before him. 

"The gates of heaven are always open, but sometimes a soul must be weighed in purgatory."

"Even the souls of children who are without sin?"

"Even children bear the stain of original sin."

"They have been baptized and cleansed and I know their hour draws near, Father. If I should lose them, I need to know that they will be received at the pearly gates."

Children. Even he could not turn away children. "The Lord will not turn his face on the innocent and the pure."

"Is it wrong of me to miss them already? I do not think they will survive this night or the 'morrow and –"

"No matter how short their time, be glad and give praise for the joy they have brought to your life. And know that you too, one day will be united with them in heaven."

"Thank you Father."

"You are welcome, my child."

He waited a while before leaving the confessional and returning to his private chambers, feeling the familiar ball of disgust rise up in stomach. 

Children, mere children. They would be shipped out of Psi Control tonight and sent to the farms . . . the camps . . . or worse, to their deaths. Because their psionic abilities were not strong enough, or because they were not powerful enough to be used by the Unified Alliance. Perhaps it would be because they were not 'trainable' or 'malleable.' Whatever the case, they were less than second class citizens now. Their status would be entered into their permanent records and they would never ever be allowed even the semblance of freedom unless they were re-tested later . . . which seldom happened.

He had only a few hours to prepare and he hated to rush these things. The only way to keep the safe houses safe was to approach these transfers with caution and thought. But these children would not be safe for another few days, that much was certain. If The Coalition insider thought they would be safe, they would not have come to him.

Putting on his overcoat, Father Andrew sighed heavily. He had a contact to meet if he hoped to get those children to the safe house by morning. And then it would be time for another letter to Brother Darius.

Andrew hoped that his fellow would be able to accommodate two more children and smuggle them into Africa. 

It was their only hope for freedom.

*****

"How are you today?"

It took her a moment to realize that the question was directed at her. It took her a moment to realize that the speaker was sitting besides her on the patio terrace, hands folded on the table top, staring curiously at her while he awaited her answer. She looked up from her reading, trying to remember his name, and secretly despising the interruption. Why couldn't people just leave her alone? "Fine . . . Stephen. Just fine."

Stephen tilted his head, his eyebrows rising in implied disbelief as a lock of soft brown hair flapped across his blue-gray eyes. "Want to try that again? This time with feeling."

She sighed and marking her page in the book of poems closed it and set it aside. "I guess, I'm a little homesick."

That probably made a world of sense to Stephen. It probably made her sound like a raving lunatic. When home was the outskirts of the city, the lean-to's and shanties where the poor lived . . . if you could call it living. She grew up in the ghettos and slums that the upper crest of London tried to pretend didn't exist; she grew up in the forgotten subway and train tunnels that made the underground where there was scarcely enough to live on . . . but where they were free. 

It hadn't always been that way. She remembered a yellow house with a porch. She remembered pretty dresses and lace around her socks and shoes that were shiny and black. She remembered dresses and trinkets and a time when her dolls had all been new and real, and not battered and busted. Like yesterday, she remembered the streets of downtown London, the shops and people. And all their thoughts a jumble of wonderful and fantastic noise that filled her senses and made her feel like she had power over them.

She knew what the ladies on the train really thought about one another. She knew what that man in that corner wasn't saying to his wife on the phone. She knew why that woman's dress wasn't coming out properly, even if the woman couldn't figure it out for herself. She knew it all; she heard it all. And she had known when the people were going to test her; she hadn't understood what all the fuss was about. She hadn't understood why they shot guns at them or why they left the house and the dresses and the dolls behind.

Sometimes, she wished that she had never gained that understanding.

Because back then, she hadn't known what she was and in not knowing, she had been free. Now, she had the knowledge that she would never be free as long as Psi Control could use her mind. But she was one of the lucky ones; she had lived on the fringe actively using her psi powers for most of her life, and had avoided capture and tagging for . . . well, all of the time she had spent living there.

If only she had listened when they called the raid. If only she hadn't gone back for little Sara and the child's silent twin. If only they had been able to find some place to hide. If only she hadn't lost control for those few minutes and attempted to crash the tunnel with telekinesis alone; if only she hadn't decided to fling two of the raiders a distance of several meters with the power and will of her mind. If only, if only, if only. It didn't do any good to wish or look back now. What was done was done and there was no turning back the clock. 

They still told her to consider herself among the lucky. She had spent only three days at the harvesting farm before she had been brought to The Centre. Only three days living in military cabins on a thin cot with a small blanket. Only three days before she was banded at The Centre, given a small flat of her own and living credits. She was one of the special ones, one with talent that Psi Control could use once they figured out what to do with it. She was one of the lucky ones. She would have the semblance of life until the day she died.

The slums had been better. Even eating cold food out of cans and huddling around weak and dying fires had been better. The disease, the infestations, the cries of the hungry children were all better than her "blessed luck."

But the people here were good. The psi's that had welcomed her that first night. They made their own family units here, just as they poor and the psi's did on the fringe. She really didn't want to take her anger and bitterness out on those who worked so hard to be good to her . . . but sometimes it was hard.

"Yeah, that happens," Stephen said softly. "Where are you from, anyway?"

"Aurora Farms."

"No," Stephen shook his head, giving her a soft smile. "Where are you from? What city?"

She blinked at him in surprise. Why did it matter? To Psi Control they were designations and numbers, marked by their abilities and where they were 'harvested.'

"Because no matter what they do to us, here we are more than psi's," Stephen's smile softened in a silent apology for breaching her thoughts. "We are still people and we can't ever forget that. We can't ever let them take that away from us." 

"I was born in London. But I lived in the fringe since I was six," she supplied quietly. "My mother ran away with me when I tested positive." 

Stephen nodded. "I didn't get that lucky. It never occurred to my parents to run. They just accepted it and handed me over."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be. I'm not. I didn't grow up in one of the farms or one of the camps. I grew up here, in The Centre. Liz helped me, she'll help you if you let her. We all will. We have to stick together in here."

She studied the man across from her for a moment. He was at least ten or fifteen years older than her, but there was still an air of childhood and youthful enthusiasm around him. He had to be a rarity, growing up in The Centre. Most of those she saw here were merely resigned. 

"Do you like it here, Stephen?" she asked him. 

There was a moment while he paused, considering her question. He sat back in his seat, thrumming long fingers against the tabletop, his eyes momentarily closing. When he finally opened them and looked at her again, he too wore the familiar mask of resignation. "Like it? No. Have I found . . . satisfaction, yes. You accept it and move on. It's how you survive. It's the only way you survive.

"You've gotten a second chance. It's a life, a different life than what you wanted or what you had but it's a chance. It's your chance, not theirs. You are still you no matter what they tell you. As long as you don't forget that, you'll be fine."

Stephen leaned forward again, placing his outstretched arm on the table. He ran his fingers lightly over the metallic band. "They call me Gamma Nine Two Five. But that's not who I am. I'm Stephen Jamison. I always have been and I always will be. Now, who are you?"

She stared down at her own band for a moment. The wristband was better than the collars and ankle manacles they used at the farms. Better than the collars and body harnesses she heard they used at the camps. But still it marked her as a designation, a psi and nothing more. Yet, Stephen seemed to believe that she could hold onto her identity, to her fragile and important past. He seemed to be proof that what did not kill you did indeed make you stronger.

Slowly she lifted her head to meet his eyes, seeing the challenge there. Briefly, she wondered how often he did this, how often he approached the new psi's and forced them to stare down their fear and their pain, forced them to accept this path but not to lose themselves to it. 

"I'm Amelie Jackson."

Stephen took her hand and shook it, a gesture of friendship and welcome. "Welcome to The Centre, Amelie. I think that you're going to be just fine here."

*****

David Stade watched without expression as the medic pulled the sheet over the face of the pale and lifeless corpse. Another one wasted, another pushed too far and then beyond. They were too weak, too fragile, these psi's. Too weak and fragile for what The Board wanted to be accomplished. But it would not be up to him to tell them that. The Board ran Psi Control. The Board owned Psi Control. And ultimately, The Board owned David Stade.

"That's the third one this month, Stade. What am I supposed to tell The Board?" The voice from behind him was raspy, yet feminine. A voice that carried the telltale signs of too many cigarettes. 

"Tell them that another subject died. Tell them that the boy broke." Stade turned, facing the woman slowly. She was a good head and half shorter than him, with glittering gray eyes which matched the silver and gray of her hair. She leaned on a cane, a large diamond or other precious jewel ring on each finger of her hand, and at first glance she seemed both diminutive and weak. Stade knew better. He did not underestimate her. She was as powerful . . . and as dangerous . . . as The Board.

"I don't care what you tell them, Lady Mulvaney. Just make it clear that I need more time."

"More time?" She stepped forward and although he gazed down at her, he felt like the one being cowered. "You've had six months. How much more time do you need? How much more time do you think that The Board can give you?"

"You don't understand the sensitivity of this! You don't and they don't! I can't simply reshape a mind, make a person into a machine over night, I can't –"

"They are not people, Stade. They are psi's."

"And their physiology is the same as yours or mine. Too much and they break. Like that boy."

"We can't afford for you to continue breaking them. Psi's are a commodity."

And like all commodities, even a psi could not be wasted. Stade knew the rhetoric and the litany. "Then stop pressuring me. Give me time to do what has to be done . . . and maybe I won't destroy anymore of your precious commodities!"

"I'll talk to The Board. I make no promises, but I will see what can be done." Lady Mulvaney turned on her heel and left without a backward glance.

David Stade swore softly and then putting the corpse out of his mind, returned to his lab. It was back to the drawing board, and he had a lot of work to do before the next batch of psi's rolled his way.

****

Colonel Masters calmly bit the tip from his cigar, his gaze focused on the cold steel in the blue eyes that locked on his from the other side of his desk. He hated this part of the job. He hated the Hunters as much as he hated those dirty psi's. Sometimes he thought that he might just hate the Psi Hunters more. He certainly hated the man across from him. Masters hated talking to him, hated dealing with him. Hell, he even hated *thinking* about dealing with him. At least the psi's knew their place. They were the second class citizens. They were born to serve and serving they would die. The Hunters, particularly men like this one, seemed to think that they ran the show and that everyone should bow and cow-tow to them. 

Masters had never done it and he wasn't about to start now.

Striking a match against the edge of his desk, he calmly lit the cigar and puffed on it a few times. "Cuban. I love my country, I am as patriotic as the next man. But we just can't make a cigar like those Cuban bastards do. You didn't want one, did you?"

"No." The man was practically seething. His jaw clenched tightly, his face a dark red, a vein popping out in his throat.

Masters puffed again. "Nothing like a good Cuban cigar." Then, pulling the cigar away from his mouth, he gave his full attention to the Psi Hunter. "I believe you were questioning my terms, Horton. I don't like it when you question my terms. Psi Control doesn't like it when Hunters start getting ideas of their own."

"I'm not afraid of your idle threats, Masters." James Horton narrowed his eyes. "You and I both know that Psi Control needs the Hunters. And I am one of the best. I brought you four, and I think that deserves a bit more than we previously discussed."

Pretending to consider the man's words, Masters enjoyed the cigar a bit longer. It was contraband for certain, but he was a man with powerful friends. This little vice would go unnoticed and besides, it was the wonderful and full of himself Dr. Neiman that gave him the cigars in the first place. For a job well done and for his careful and wonderful management of the situation with the Hunters.

In other words, the pompous windbag asshole had been thanking him for making sure that none of the high and mighty up at Psi Corporation and Centre for Development and Control had to deal with the righteous and pompous like James Horton. 

"They might be damaged."

While it may be true that Psi Control didn't care how they got their hands on psi's who slipped through initial testing or the rogue ones who escaped the farms and camps, they did care whether or not those ones were in good condition. Methods of delivery didn't matter, so long as they were handed over mentally in tact. For the most part, Psi Control didn't want to know about the methods; it helped them to pretend that they only served the government and that they kept their hands clean.

No, they didn't want to know about men like Horton who used psi's to bait, trap and catch their own kind. He used them and used them until they burnt out or burnt up and then he simply supplied himself with another one. Like the girl that stood in the corner now, staring submissively down at her feet, her blonde hair falling obscuring her face like a veil. 

Masters repressed a shudder as his eyes and thoughts turned to the girl. He hated being around psi's, he hated the way they looked at him, peeling back the layers of his mind. The way she looked at him now, tired blue eyes simply staring at him as though she had perceived his every thought. Which she probably had. 

He hadn't wanted her in his office at all. She was properly banded, the security device around her neck and another around her ankle, she wouldn't be able to escape Horton. But the weasel had insisted on keeping the girl close; Masters knew that he did it to have the upper hand, to make him uncomfortable. He refused to give James Horton the satisfaction.

"Masters, you know they are in good shape. Jade will even verify it if you ask her."

At the sound of her name, the girl's gaze shifted to Horton, her eyes hardening ever so slightly. Masters noted that with some interest. Horton might have a trained dog, but it was an unwilling trained dog. And the unwilling trained dog just waited for an opportunity to bite the hand that feeds. He would so enjoy being there the day that Horton got bitten. 

No, Masters didn't want to ask her. He didn't want to deal with psi's at all and Horton knew it. But then again, Masters knew that the psi's were all in good condition. One had even had the nerve to glare in defiance and spit in Horton's face. A good show and strong spirit, but Psi Control would take care of that.

"Fine, Horton. You'll get your extra money. Just get the hell out of my office. You're starting to make the place stink."

Masters turned his chair away, staring at the back wall to indicate an end to the conversation. Hunters and psi's. He hated them both.

***


	3. Chapter One: Golden

**Eclipse - Book One: Darkness Falling**  
by M. Bumbarger

**Chapter One : Golden**

She found him exactly where she knew he would be found. Slumped over the workbench, forehead resting on the white sleeved lab coat that covered his arm, a pile of papers scattered beneath his cheek and within reach at his fingertips he slept as though he lounged in his bed back home. Juggling the cardboard tray that held three hot cups of coffee, a large orange juice, one cranberry juice, three bagels and a box of half a dozen donuts, and the shoulder bag slung over one arm, she smiled fondly at him as her elbow grazed the light panel.

The room brightened instantly, artificial fluorescent light coloring everything in a sickly yellow glow. For a moment, the sudden brightness stung her dark eyes, and Sue Lee took a moment to blink in the brightness before everything came into focus once again. Computer equipment, laser technology and other items that she could never identify or remember the names of lined the walls; the printer at the far end of the room hummed softly while spitting out a row of equations that read like a foreign language to her untrained eyes. A multitude of different cords crisscrossed the floor, books and notebooks piled on the various desks and tables, and still she managed to skirt around them all with the grace and familiarity of a dancer on a stage. The tray found its way to its usual place on top of the compact refrigerator, and she skittered across the room with two cups of coffee in those Styrofoam cups. 

Now, there was something that amazed her. Styrofoam. One would think that with all the technological advances the Unified Alliance had made in the past years that Styrofoam would have become a thing of the past. But in this case, as well as in so many others, old habits died hard she supposed.

Slipping onto the lab stool besides her target, Sue Lee set down the coffee cups and affectionately mussed the tousled dark head of hair. Her voice was a soft lilting and British accent, complimenting her fine Asian features. "Come on Sleeping Beauty, it's time to join the land of the living." 

He stirred slowly, heavy lidded dark eyes opening to blink at her in confusion. Sue Lee watched in amusement as the emotions of waking drifted across his handsome young face as his eyes slowly came to focus on her. Then suddenly, as if someone had flipped on light, he was awake and sitting upright. Rubbing the back of his neck and yawning, he spoke in the familiar Australian accent that he had retained even after living in the British Provinces for most of his life. "Sue Lee . . . what are you doing here?"

The unasked question being 'What are you doing here this late?' That thought made her smile more brightly. 

"It's already morning, Neiman. You slept here last night." Sue Lee paused and nudged one of the cups of coffee towards him. "Again."

He grinned sheepishly, and took the cup. "How did you know I was here?"

"Where else would you be? I stopped by to pick you up," she popped the plastic lid from her coffee and lifted it to her nose, enjoying the aroma that wafted up. "My turn to car pool us, remember? Anyway, you weren't home. You didn't answer when I rang you, and your bed wasn't slept in."

"You let yourself in again," it was an accusation. 

"You should be glad that I worry about you," Sue Lee retorted. 

"Mother henning me is more like it," he grumbled.

Sue Lee shrugged, undeterred by his indignation. She had been mothering him for so long that she didn't think it was possible for her to not mother him. "Adam, you really need to start getting some sleep."

"I get sleep," Adam argued over the rim of the coffee cup. 

"Some place other than this lab." Jumping off the lab stool, she marched over the white write-on/wipe-off board and studied the equations written there for a moment. She knew nothing about physics or math, but she was observant enough to know that the equations had not changed at all in the past few weeks. "You and Red still haven't worked this out?"

"Not yet, but we're getting closer." The shift in topic brought down Adam Neiman's defenses and he was by her side in a heartbeat. "The part that's slowing us down is the quantum differential. I think that if we . . ."

The rest of his words were lost on her because they made about as much sense as to her as Ancient Egyptian. Sue Lee did however, smile in encouragement, enjoying the enthusiasm and love that Adam showed for his latest interest . . . solving the problem of time travel. Or rather disproving all the theorems and equations that demonstrated why time travel was an impossibility. And, given enough time and enough rope to hang himself with, Sue Lee knew that he would manage to do just that.

Adam Neiman was what was a "golden child." He had a mind like a vice and a photographic memory. And he had been born that way naturally . . . not engineered in one of his father's biological laboratories like so many of the golden children who emerged these days. His father, the esteemed Dr. A. Marcus Neiman, hailed Adam as the prime example of how intelligence and ability could most arguably be inherited. Adam, for his part, tried to ignore his biological relationship to Dr. Neiman as much as possible.

"Whoa, Neiman, put a cap on it will ya?" 

The call came from the entrance of the lab as their friend, and the other half of Adam's time travel equation, wandered into the small private lab. Red was, as usual, wearing nothing more than a pair of sweats and running shoes although the weather was cool and slightly damp. He raked his fingers through his damp titan hair, the feature that earned him his nickname, and headed immediately towards the refrigerator and the breakfast tray which Sue Lee had provided. "You're putting Sue to sleep again."

"Hey Red," Adam raised his cup in greeting. "You're here early."

"I told you I would be," Red grabbed the remaining cup of coffee and opened the box of donuts. "You didn't think I'd forget?"

"Did you boys have a break thru last night?" Sue Lee asked, admittedly a bit curious. Marmaduke "Red" Damon crawled out of bed before ten o'clock in the morning only for the most specific and important of reasons. For him to have arrived at the lab before nine o'clock was a fact that didn't escape her scrutiny. 

"Yeah, I was just telling you –" Adam stopped in mid-sentence, his dark brown eyes focused on the woman in front of him. "You weren't listening, were you?"

"I was listening. I wasn't understanding."

"That's because Neiman over there thinks that everyone is a MENSA scholar and that he doesn't have to explain things in plain English," Red leaned against the window sill, and gave her a wink. "Sometimes, I don't understand a word that he's talking about. . . so did you go home last night or did you pull up a stool?"

"I got sleep," Adam responded instantly to his friend's inquiry.

"You slept here. Why do you even pay rent? Just buy yourself a cot for the corner and you'll save money."

"Speaking of which," Sue Lee spoke up quickly, hoping to stave off what would certainly turn into a mild disagreement between the two young men, "I brought you a change of clothes. I thought that you might want to teach class today in something different than you were wearing yesterday."

Adam took the offered shoulder bag with a sigh and another one of those sheepish grins that made him look like a young boy and not the twenty-five year old man who was out to foil Einstein and the other great minds of the twentieth century. "Thanks, Sue."

"Get changed. You've got class in twenty minutes."

As Adam disappeared into the back office to change, Sue Lee returned her attention to the board of equations. "So, did you have a break thru?"

"We think so. We may have found the problematic equation," Red spoke around the donut he was rapidly devouring, but it was a behavior so typical that Sue Lee barely noticed it all. "I'm going to do some hypothetical runs through the computer to see what I come up with while Neiman's in class today."

Pausing briefly to finish swallowing, he lowered his voice and cast his eyes towards the office. "You know, we really need to do something about him."

Sue Lee nodded, "I know. He needs to get out more." 

"He needs to get a woman. He needs to date . . . to do something besides hole himself up in this lab with his computers and equations." Red didn't mince words, but Sue Lee hadn't expected him to. One thing she had learned about Red was that he was honest . . . blatantly honest. 

She hadn't trusted the young, loud student from the when he Adam had first introduced the two of them almost three years ago. But she was protective of Adam Neiman; from the time his mother had died when he was only six years old, Sue Lee had been his nanny and his best friend. Although a distance of ten years separated them, they had always been close and after watching him hurt by his father's cold and methodical love, and the few failed attempts at friendship, she had taken it upon herself to be both a mentor and mother to him. 

Red was Adam's friend though, not someone who simply wanted to get close to him because of who Adam's father was. He was a loyal friend, and one that was honest enough to tell Adam the things he needed to hear and not only the things he wanted to hear. He was also a whiz kid with computers and his addition to Adam's team was priceless. 

"How many times do I think I've told him that? Suggested it? Encouraged it?" Sue Lee asked softly. She waved her hand negligently around the lab, "This is what he loves. It doesn't matter what I say or what I do. This is Adam's passion."

"And what happens when he solves this equation . . . and he will solve it, Sue. What happens when this is gone? What's going to get him all fueled up then?"

Sue Lee stared sadly at the office door behind which Adam changed. "I don't know, Red. I really don't know."

***


	4. Chapter Two: Echo

**Eclipse - Book One: Darkness Falling**  
by M. Bumbarger

**Chapter Two : Echo**

He hated this part. After three weeks of excuses, of polite declinations due to lectures to prepare or exams and proofs to grade, of think tanks and brainstorming with the physics and math departments at the University and of simple hiding in his lab and pretending that he wasn't aware of the calls channeled into him, Adam had run out of excuses. Now it was time for the obligatory lunch with his father, where Dr. Neiman feigned interest in the life of his son and inevitable tried to convince Adam of how righteous and wonderful the world was and how fortunate Adam was to live in it.

It didn't help matters any that these lunches or dinners or unexpected meetings always took place at Psi Corporation and Centre for Development and Control, or The Centre as it referred to itself. Not that this was the only Centre; but this was the one in London, and when one spoke of The Centre everyone knew what you meant. The Centre was the polite way of naming it; Psi Control was the derogatory end of it and Adam used that particular designation as often as possible.

Placing his fingertips against the finger pad and looking into the scanner, he waited indifferently while the computer performed its routine security check. The Centre was a world and city within itself; no one got either in or out of The Centre without passing through the security checkpoints. This was how the Unified Alliance protected its "interest."

Adam bit back the bile of gore and disgust that rose in his throat at the last thought. They were people, for God's sake. Psi's were people just like the rest of them. Yes, they were given some extraordinary skills and abilities, but they were neither animals nor bizarre freaks of nature. They breathed the same air and their bodies functioned in the same fashion. The only differences were traced genetically, or sometimes found in brain scans, and even those could sometimes be unreliable. 

"Neiman, Adam M. Normal. Security clearance provided. Enjoy your visit to The Centre."

Barely acknowledging the soft feminine computer voice, or the security guard that handed back his pass card, Adam shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his coat and headed into The Centre proper. 

Normal. That was his designation in the computer files of the Alliance. Meaning that he lacked any psionic abilities and therefore was allowed all rights and freedoms as a full citizen of the Alliance. Normal. Even though he had never had a normal day or relationship with his father. Normal, even though nothing about him truly was. It didn't matter. That was where the line was drawn, you were a normal or you were a psi. And if you were a psi, your life was not your own from the moment the government found you.

But The Centre was meant to provide the illusion of normality and freedom to the psi's. A huge complex with shopping centers, restaurants, schools and living complexes, it was here the 'best of the best' of the psi's lived, worked and existed while they waited for the Alliance or Psi Control to find some work for them. They had everything that they could ever want . . . aside from the ownership of themselves. 

Walking among them didn't bother Adam the way that it did so many "normals." He had been here often enough to know that psi's preferred to keep their distance from norms as much as norms tried to keep their distance from the psi's that were mainstreamed into the outside world. He also knew that psi's didn't need to go out of their way to read the minds of norms; it seemed that most norms were so loud that psi's had to concentrate to *not* hear their thoughts.

He took his time walking through the public garden on his way to the private elevator that led up to the Operational Offices. The top most level of The Centre where his father, and hundreds of other men and women who somehow believed themselves to be the closest thing to God, sat and watched and manipulated and controlled the world beneath them. Personally, he liked the public garden; he liked the serene tranquility and beauty that it provided, just as it was supposed to provide a buffer between the psi's and the outside world. Adam knew that it was more for the comfort of the norms that had to come to The Centre to work than to provide any comfort for the psi's themselves. Psi's had no lives and no rights.

Slumping against the elevator wall, he ignored those in the elevator with him as the carriage began its ascent. He didn't wish to make idle conversation about the war in the Russian front or the slow political breaking down and reshaping of the South American continent. It was only a matter of time before the entire world was part of the Unified Alliance, one government, one church . . .how long before they tried to make them all one mind?

Two psi's and two norms occupied the elevator with him. The metallic black bands they wore on their wrists could identify the psi's. Those bands tracked them, just as their DNA markers did. Everything about them was contained in those bands, and they could not be removed without alerting the military police and Psi Control at the highest levels. Those bands tagged and collared them like dogs, marking their difference from norms. Without them, they would have appeared just as normal as everyone else.

At least that was not his father's invention. That was not something else for him to be disgusted with the name Neiman for creating. Not that it was any consolation to him; his father was responsible for enough that disgusted him. 

Adam checked his watch. Not that he needed to really. He had an internal awareness of time that was more precise than any watch ever had been. No, he checked his watch because it gave him something to do in the silent hum and rise of the elevator. He checked his watch because it would allow him to focus his thoughts and plan the remainder of his day . . .which he hoped would go better than his morning had.

Starting with Sue Lee waking him in the lab, the day had gone downhill. And Adam honestly hadn't meant to sleep at the lab last night. Last night, he had intended to go home, get a shower, feed his cat and focus his mind on something else other than those equations. He knew that his mind was getting too cluttered, that he wasn't focusing properly and he knew the only way to combat that was to take a few steps back and approach it from another angle.

But that hadn't happened. Instead, he had woken up to Sue Lee's mothering and spent the last ten minutes before he dashed off to teach his sophomore level physics class listening to Red try and set him up with some grad student or another. While he appreciated their concern and their efforts, neither of his friends seemed to realize that the last thing Adam had any interest in at this moment was a romantic entanglement. Those always ended in upset and heartache and he wasn't going to travel that road again yet . . . if he ever did. Besides, even the most intelligent and brightest of The University students didn't hold Adam's interest. They didn't think the way he thought, they didn't see the things he saw no matter how hard he tried to explain them. 

They didn't share his passion and in the end, that was the biggest disappointment of all.

His students today had been ill prepared for class and no amount of prodding could seem to make them think and perform properly. Then Professor Cage had actually gotten offended when Adam found the simple error in his theoretical equation and corrected it. Adam wouldn't have minded the man's offense or scathing remarks if the professor hadn't asked for his help to begin with.

"I don't know why you bother to help those dried up prunes," Red had remarked. "They're jealous of Neiman, and they don't appreciate your mind."

Maybe not, but he didn't have to be a stuck-up windbag simply because they were, did he?

By the time the elevator reached Central Operations, Adam disembarked alone. He nodded and smiled at the general receptionist and headed off towards his father's offices. The sooner he got this over with, the happier he would be. And with any luck, Red might have actually made some progress on those computer simulations.

"Adam."

He saw her too late to alter his course and pretend he hadn't seen her. 

"Lucy."

She was precisely as he remembered her . . . no that wasn't the truth. She looked the same; the same shoulder length brown hair, the same inquisitive gray eyes, but other than that there was nothing there that Adam remembered. The Lucy he knew had been energetic and wanted to conquer the world. She wanted to be a journalist; she wanted to travel beyond the boundaries of the Alliance and show the world the truth of what lie beyond in Asia and Russian and Africa. She wanted . . . she wanted to make a difference.

Well, he supposed that she was doing precisely that. Only these days found her making a difference for Psi Control. Standing before him now in the standard white uniform of Psi Control, her identification badge on her right shoulder and a clip board and data computer in one arm, Lucy Adams was not the young idealistic college student that he had fallen in love with and almost married. These days, Lucy Adams was about as free and independent as the psi's in the lower levels; Psi Control owned her, but she had gone willingly when the price was right. 

She made a difference. She made the world see Psi Control the way they wanted to be seen. 

And in the end, she had made Adam not wish to see her at all anymore.

"How are you?" It was the standard question. It wasn't that she truly cared or wanted an answer anymore than he wanted to give an honest one.

"Fine. You?"

"Good," Lucy nodded. "Still working in your lab?"

"Always." Adam raked his eyes roughly over her, noting the rings on her sleeve. She had two red ones now, not just one. Apparently she was doing her job well enough to earn a promotion. "I see you're still doing well with Psi Corporation." Corporation, not Control. No one dared say the derogatory when under video surveillance or in the place where even the plants and floors had ears. 

"I'm satisfied and happy." A pause, and then, "I'm seeing someone."

And that was supposed to mean what to him? She had already sold her soul to Psi Control, what did he care if she gave her heart to one of its vultures? "Let me guess. A doctor."

"A very talented doctor. You could be as good as him, Adam."

He heard the silent accusation in her words. It was the same accusation that he heard so often from his father. He could do something useful with his mind – biogenetic engineering, computer engineering, anything except for wasting his time and his talent teaching at The University and holed up in his lab. Never mind that what he did gave him satisfaction. Never mind that it made him happy. Of course in this materialistic world where the rich got richer and the poor wasted away until the day they mercifully died, happiness didn't seem to be of much importance.

"No thank you, I'm good where I am. I've got a lot of sharp students this semester."

"Well, good luck to you then. I have press conference." She brushed past him, the all too familiar scent of her perfume making his heart clench. God, how could he still love her after all this time, after all that had happened and the bitter words they had exchanged?

Adam couldn't resist getting in a last retort. "Good luck sleeping with yourself at night."

Lucy faltered, but barely. He wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been watching for it. Then she was gone, hurrying on to hail the wonders of Psi Control for the modern world. 

Adam continued towards his father's office, hoping to get lunch over with as quickly as possible. He was suddenly very tired . . . and feeling slightly ill.

*** End of Chapter Two


	5. Chapter Three: Centre

**Eclipse - Book One: Darkness Falling**  
by M. Bumbarger

**Chapter Three : Centre**

The Centre had it all. The entire upper levels of the place were built and designed to accommodate every need of those who worked there. Right now, Adam sat across from his father in a large open-air restaurant, counting the minutes until this slow and painful torture had passed. Although, this time, Adam couldn't really complain. This lunch gathering hadn't been nearly as painful as some others. But that probably had more to do with the fact that his father spent nearly every other minute on the telephone and ignoring Adam. Which suited Adam perfectly well.

He pushed the overcooked vegetables around on his plate and allowed his eyes to wander across the restaurant. Funny how these doctors and psychologists and scientists could work here every day, and yet not a single psi was seen in the restaurant. This restaurant was so prestigious that the psi's weren't even allowed to work here. Talk about your double standards.

Adam was glad for the lack of conversation for another reason. He was still reeling from his run in with Lucy. How many times had he come here and managed to avoid her? How many times had he gone intentionally out of his way to avoid her? There was nothing left between them, all words had been said and all tears had been shed. She hadn't even waited for him to get home from the lab before moving her clothes out of their shared flat. But maybe it had been better that way; their last few weeks together were so volatile, the less contact they had shared the better off they both were.

He realized now that it wasn't that he was still in love with her but that he *had* been in love with her. Once, he had thought that he knew her better than anyone else on the planet. Once, she had shared his ideas and his convictions. Or so he had thought. He hadn't realized how easily money and prestige could sway her, or how easily power could corrupt and change her lofty ideals. It made him feel greatly disappointed in her . . . and in himself for not being able to see the true self that she hid.

"So, Adam, how are classes this semester?"

His father's voice pulled Adam from his thoughts and he looked up at the man across from him. The physical similarities always bothered him. He didn't want to look like this man, not even the slightest bit but there was nothing that he could do about it. Physically, he was his father's son and staring across the table was like staring at himself in the future. It made him want to be sick.

"Good," Adam answered by rote. "They're going well. I'm teaching two classes and one honors class."

"Only three classes? Are you having trouble with the physics department?"

"No, Father, I only want to teach three classes. I wanted some time this semester to work with Professor Cage and Dr. Emmerling on some their theoreticals. And I wanted some time to work on my own."

"Adam," Dr. Neiman leaned across the table, feigning concern as only he could. "I admire your convictions, truly I do. But with your skills, with that mind of yours, you could be doing so much more. You think that little facility you have is something? You should see the facilities we have here at The Centre. Adam –"

Adam rolled his eyes in disgust. It always came back to this. His father trying to convince him to work at The Centre, to abandon the one thing that gave him any happiness and satisfaction and become a government drone. Not just any government drone, but a drone doing things and following principles that he did not believe in. 

"We've been over this, Dad," Adam cut him off abruptly. "Those are your goals. Not mine. I'm happy teaching. I want to teach. That's why I became a teacher."

"Teaching? What good is it doing you? Your students, not one of them has your genius or your potential. You are wasting your time at The University when you could be doing so much more."

"Like what? Harvesting *slaves*?"

Dr. Neiman's eyes darkened and narrowed dangerously, and Adam knew that he tread upon very thin ice. "You mind your words, Adam Marcus. Psi Corporation is the strongest, most profitable and most powerful corporation in the Unified Alliance. It is the reason that you have all the things that you have, that you had growing up. It fed you, it clothed you, and it owns you whether you work here or not. Don't ever forget that."

"Where do I sign up?" Adam asked darkly. Standing he threw his napkin on the table and shook his head in undisguised disgust. "I'll talk to you later, Dad. I have some appointments to keep."

He left, ignoring the angry shouts of his father behind him, ignoring the questioning and scandalous looks he was given as he stormed out of the restaurant. Adam walked briskly, clenching his fists at his sides, hoping and praying that no one and nothing got in his way before he calmed himself. He didn't want to take his anger with his father out on an innocent passerby.

No, the inside wall of the elevator sufficed just fine. He pounded the wall once, twice, three times and kicked it for good measure once the elevator doors closed behind him. Angry tears stinging his eyes, he took a few deep breaths and acknowledged that abusing the elevator really hadn't made him feel any better.

He hated that man. He knew that he should feel some twinge of guilt for thinking that way, but he didn't. He hated his father. He hated that man who didn't know him and didn't want to get to know him; who took every opportunity he could to tell Adam that not only was he a failure, but why he was a failure. All because he didn't agree with Dr. Neiman's views and never had.

Adam knew now why he had avoided this lunch date. He now recalled why he made the excuses and avoided the telephone calls. And this time it had only taken thirty minutes of agony for him to recall it. Thirty minutes, an undercooked lunch and some very bruised knuckles.

Stepping out of the elevator on the ground level, Adam looked down at his knuckles and rubbed them gently. At least they weren't bleeding. They would definitely be bruised, he would have to see about bandaging them when he returned to the lab. And he would have to brace himself for another lecture from Sue Lee about learning to control his temper. Maybe he wouldn't bandage them after all. He wasn't quite in the mood for more of Sue Lee's lectures and mother-henning. 

But he needed to do something to diffuse the still burning anger inside of him. Maybe he and Red could head over to the gym and hit the mats. Failing that, he could always exhaust himself with a few laps around the pool –

So completely focused on his own thoughts, he didn't notice the obstacle in his path until he walked right into it. An armload of books tumbled to the ground among simultaneous exclamations of, "Ow!"

Despite his anger, he forced his politeness and manners to the fore. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's my fault. I'm sorry."

Rubbing his chin, Adam stared down at the head of dark curls and sighed. If they kept apologizing to one another, it was going to be very long day. He knelt down beside her, helping her gather the books. "Here, let me at least help you."

"No, you don't have to. It was my fault. It's quite fine, really." She reached for the scattered books, carefully keeping her distance from him. 

"Four hands make for faster . . . " Adam paused as their hands reached for the same book and his eyes fell on the thin metallic black band on her slender wrist. "Work." 

She caught his pause, how could she not given what she was and immediately her hand drew back. She apologized again, gathering up the last of the books, before standing and speaking to him slowly and with that submissive tone that reminded him of just how far the levels of distinction were drawn by Psi Control. "Really, I'm sorry for the inconvenience. Might I have that back?"

Her head rose slowly, dark eyes slowly rising to focus on him and for what could have been an eternity or only a few moments, there was nothing else save for those dark pools that drowned him. Her skin was a radiant nut brown, ebony curls brushing her shoulders and framing her oval face while small white teeth bit on her full lower lip as she stood there, clearly poised on the edge of flight. 

God, but she was beautiful.

"Please? My book, sir?" The sound of her voice, made him realize that he was still standing there, staring at her like he had never a woman or a psi before and Adam immediately felt himself flush hotly . . . something he hadn't done in quite a while.

Releasing the breath he hadn't realized he was holding until that moment, Adam extended the book to her after taking a quick glance at the title. "Byron. Poetry."

"Yes," she took the book and tucked it into her arms. "I'm sorry again—"

"Don't," Adam held up a hand to forestall her. "I bumped into you. It was completely my fault."

He didn't miss or mistake the ripple of surprise that played across her face at his words. Of course, in this place she wasn't used to being treated like a real person, with real feelings. She wasn't used to being given respect. 

Not quite knowing how else to respond, she simply nodded. "I have to go now." She skirted around him, hurrying away from the public gardens towards the safety of the inner living area of The Centre.

"Wait," Adam turned and followed her, quickly insinuating himself in her path. Later he would wonder what insanity possessed him, but at that moment he didn't really care. He wasn't really doing anything wrong. The gardens were open to everyone – it wasn't as if he was talking to her within the inner walls of The Centre. "Who are you?"

A pause, and then with resignation, "Beta two zero one seven."

It took Adam a moment to realize that she was giving him her Psi Control designation. 

"No," he shook his head, "I meant, what's your name?"

Another pause, and for a moment, he thought that she wouldn't answer. Then, quietly, "Amelie."

"Amelie," Adam repeated. "That's a beautiful name."

"Thank you." 

"Well, Amelie, I'm Adam." He extended his hand again, this time in introduction, giving her what he hoped was the most open and friendly smile that he could. "It's nice to meet you."

Disbelief flickered across her features as her eyes darted from his outstretched hand to his face and back again. Then, very slowly, as if she was afraid that he would bite her or sting her, her hand rose and clasped his. "It's nice to meet you too."

Her hand was warm and soft. Like her eyes and her voice. Adam felt his smile widen. "You know, I don't bite."

She almost smiled back. Almost. Suddenly she seemed to recall that they were breaking every rule of social etiquette even if they weren't breaking any laws. She jerked her hand back stiffly, bristling like a threatened animal. "I have to go."

And then she was gone, running her identification bracelet over the door and disappearing into the heart of The Centre.

***


	6. Chapter Four: Spark

**Eclipse - Book One: Darkness Falling**  
by M. Bumbarger

**Chapter Four : Spark**

"How was lunch with Daddy?" Red didn't even look up from the computer terminal as Adam entered the office.

"Great," Adam took off his coat and hung it on the hook on the back of the door. "We caught up on old times, realized how much we missed each other and decided to take that father-son camping trip that we just keep putting off."

"The usual?"

"The usual." 

"You didn't break anything did you?"

Adam gave a soft chuckle. "No, I didn't break anything." Replacing his overcoat with his lab coat, Adam made his way to the computer terminal and dragged a chair over beside his lab partner. "Did you get anything out of those computer simulations?"

"Oh, yeah," Red sighed, using the same tone Adam had used with him when discussing his father only a few minutes earlier. "I cracked the equation and re-wrote the theory of relativity."

Not trying to mask his disappointment, Adam slumped back into his seat. "The usual?"

Red punched a few more numbers into the computer and sat back as random calculations began to scroll across the screen. "The usual."

"Did you have lunch?"

"Yeah," Red rubbed the back of his neck and leaned further back in his chair. He tilted it so that the two front legs raised off the floor and the seat was precariously balanced on the rear two legs – quite a feat to achieve with a computer stool, but somehow Red always managed it. "Sue dropped off a whole deli tray. She said that what we didn't eat, we could keep in the refrigerator. You weren't here, so I got to hear the whole living in the lab and not eating lecture all by myself. Remind me to thank you later."

Adam gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, feeling a genuine pang of sympathy for his friend. He knew what being on the receiving end of one of Sue's lectures was like a little too well. "Sorry about that."

"Anyway, she wanted you to give her a call when you got back from The Centre. She probably wants to hear all the details and highlights, right down to every non-intelligent word your father managed to utter."

"He was intelligent, Red. He's always intelligent," Adam watched the equations scroll up and across the screen, avoiding the other's eyes. "He just doesn't understand. He doesn't want to understand me.

"You know, I should be used to it by now, but I'm not. Every time I meet with him, I hope that maybe this is the one time that he will actually understand that I'm not him. I may have his name, but I am not Adam Marcus Neiman's clone. I'm his son . . . but to him a son, a drone, a clone . . . it's all the same."

"Hey, there are some of us in this world that are glad you're not him," Red said as he attempted to balance a pencil on his turned up forehead. "Just think about what someone with your father's drives and ambitions would do if he had half your IQ. Better yet, don't think about it. The thought's kinda scary."

Adam gave a soft chuckle and a half-smile. How Red managed to stay so detached from everything and still manage to care about the world and people around him, Adam would never figure out. But his friend wasn't given to long moments of sentimentality or anything else; when the situation got too intense, Red broke the tension with a joke or lighthearted remark that would have earned anyone else a few scathing glares. But not Red. With Red, everyone just seemed to accept it and move on.

"Did I get any messages while I was out?" Adam asked.

"Yeah, Professor Cage called with his apologies for his behavior. He wants to take you to dinner to make up for it." Red lowered the chair to the floor with a snap, slipping the pencil behind his ear. "In other words, he's so damn scared that he pissed you off so much that you'll leave his project, you can probably milk that old cow for whatever he's worth. What is his project anyway?"

"Quantum teleportation. They're taking atoms apart at the subatomic level to study photon teleportation and hoping to extrapolate upwards and outwards from there. And they're working with a biogeneticist as well. Basically, it's the same question that's been asked for years – if psi's can do it, why can't science?"

"You don't think they have a shot in hell of figuring it out, do you?"

"No," Adam answered honestly.

"Then why are you helping them?"

"It's something to do. Besides, I think that some basic understanding of teleportation is going to be necessary for us to solve our equation. The displacement of matter. Unfortunately, not a one of them is willing to consider the true road to understanding." Adam watched as the last equation scrolled across the screen . . . rejected as plausible by the program. "If they want to understand teleportation, they should ask the psi's, or at least the Alpha's who can teleport."

"Great theory but it falls in practice, mi amigo," Red said. "And you're supposed to be the smart one. You're assuming that they would leave an Alpha un-drugged and clear minded long enough to answer any questions . . . and if they ever did that, you and I both know the psi would be gone in a heartbeat. Hell, it's what I would do in their position if I could teleport.

"And there are so few Alpha's, Psi Control isn't going to risk allowing one to fall through their fingers."

"I know," Adam pushed the computer stool away from the desk and began winding a path towards the refrigerator. "But there is just so much we don't know about them. So much that we don't understand. And it's ignorance that causes fear. It's the reason that the segregation and the tagging began – because everyone was afraid of what they didn't understand." 

He found the deli tray and began to make himself a sandwich. He didn't know how many credits that lunch cost his father, but he knew it hadn't been worth it. He was still hungry; he just hadn't realized it until he got back to the lab.

"And you're not? It didn't bother you at all to be in The Centre, knowing that hundreds, maybe even a thousand psi's were all around you? Hearing your thoughts? Your fantasies?"

A face floated before his eyes and Adam felt the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile. Fear had been the one emotion that he hadn't felt staring into the dark orbs. "No, I wasn't," he shook his head, pushing the face out of his mind. She was beautiful, but she was about as far removed from him as the sun was from the earth. He'd have better luck helping Cage and Emmerling re-write the Quantum teleportation theory they were working on. 

And that, in essence was why he allowed himself to talk to her, to admire her. The knowledge that he would never see her again, and that even if he could see her again, it would never be anything. There were mores built into the society that prevented that; norms and psi's simply did not associate on social levels. As further protection to those mores, Psi Control kept a careful and watchful eye on their psi's. There were rules and laws regulating their departures from The Centre and their interaction in the "mainstream." They were not even allowed to consider a marriage partner without the permission of Psi Control, and those marriages never took place between a psi and a norm. That was illegal.

Tainting the gene pool, was the reason that Psi Control gave for that law. They wanted their psi's strong and not watered down; anything less than an Epsilon was simply not acceptable. That was the excuse they gave. And most people seemed to buy into it . . . of course for most people, it was easier to accept what you were told than to think for yourself.

Adam had his own beliefs. And his was that Psi Control needed to control the number of psi's to make certain they remained in control. He'd studied the numbers and developments of psi's a few years back, and he didn't believe that Psi Control had been entirely truthful in the biological information they gave to the public. Psi Control insisted that the genes for psionic ability was recessive; Adam had a hunch that the genes were actually dominant, but as yet hadn't really worked out all of the computational material.

If that was true, then all of Psi Control's rules and laws made sense. It would be dangerous to allow a proliferation of psi's that couldn't be counted and numbered. But it would also explain why rogue psi's were found everyday. And if rogue psi's were found every day, why were so few Alpha's found? And why did that one ability that marked them as Alpha – the ability to teleport – burn itself out so easily?

Unless it didn't and the psi's were far more aware and manipulative than Psi Control would ever concede to give them credit for. Wasn't it possible that they hid that ability to avoid spending their time drugged and incoherent, to avoid the mind control techniques that Psi Control subjected its Alpha's to? And wouldn't that explain why there seemed to be an increase in the number of Beta's and Gamma's, who knew well enough to hide their teleportative abilities, but couldn't hide the overall strength of their psionic power?

It was certainly food for thought, for some other day. If only he could actually talk to a psi, preferably a Beta or a Gamma outside of The Centre. If they trusted him long enough to talk to him, if he could make them believe and understand that this was truly his own private little world where he liked to build and disprove theories because . . . well …because he could. But he would never find a psi willing to talk to a norm, and he would certainly never be able to get one off The Centre grounds.

Inadvertently, his mind turned back to Amelie. He had a thought; it was positively insane, but he wasn't going to be able to think clearly until he put his curiosity at ease. "Red, you can get into Psi Control's computers right?"

"Yeah, I can. But why would I want to?"

Adam turned to look at him, giving him a smile. "I want you to look something up for me."

"You do realize how much encryption I'll have to go through to do that? And you're not set up to hide your footprint. They'll trace it right back to the lab."

"No, you misunderstand me," Adam shook his head and carried his sandwich over to the terminal. "I don't want you bothering any of their secured files. Just the public data files, the information that is out there for anyone to retrieve if they want to retrieve it."

"And have the clearance to."

"I have clearance," Adam told him quietly. "I've just never used it."

"Oh, well aren't you just full of surprises?" Red turned his attention the computer and began to login. "It'll only take a few minutes to get in if you have clearance. When did you get clearance anyway?"

"It was a gift from Dad. He thought that it would sway me."

Red gave him a quick glance, then with a shrug returned his attention to the computer screen. The Psi Corporation logo twirled on the screen while it accessed the computer and then granted permission. 

"Where to pal?" Red asked once they were inside.

"Data files. Beta two zero one seven."

Typing the information in, Red quirked an eyebrow at him. "Can I ask what we're doing?"

"Just looking at a data file, Red."

"A data file of a psi. Why are we –" The other stopped as the information came up on the screen. 

Adam smiled, reaching over to scroll through the information. "Beautiful, isn't she?"

"How—"

"I saw her today at The Centre. In the public gardens. I talked to her. Sort of. I couldn't stop staring at her."

"You talked to her?" He heard the disbelief and horror in Red's voice.

"No law against that. Yet." Adam continued to skim the information in Amelie's file. Basic biographical data filled the screen. Her height, weight, blood type, test results, observer's comments, everything that Psi Control considered important, but nothing about *her*. No birth date, no family information, no other origin information aside from the farm she was 'harvested' from. He had known that Psi Control didn't consider that information important; it had never occurred to him that they would obliterate it completely. "Damn."

She was a person, damn it all. At least she had been before Psi Control got their claws on her. Now, she was simply Beta 2017, a designation. Adam wondered why he would have expected anything else?

"Adam, what are you looking for?"

"Nothing," Adam turned sadly away from the computer, marking yet another reason to hate and disapprove of everything Psi Control was and did. "Nothing important. Let's get back to work on that equation."

***


	7. Chapter Five: Shadow

**Eclipse - Book One: Darkness Falling**  
by M. Bumbarger

**Chapter Five : Shadow**

Adam was greeted at the door of his flat by a purring, green-eyed ball of gray and white fur. She butted her head roughly against his leg, giving a loud cry of righteous indignation and proceeded to weave in and out of his ankles making it nearly impossible for him to walk down the short hall and brush his hand along the light panel.

"Hello to you too, Mystique," Adam greeted his feline companion brightly. The cat gave another loud yelp in response. 

"I know, I know. You're mad because I didn't come home last night. Would you even believe me if I told you that I was sorry?" That earned him another bump against his shin.

Reaching down, Adam scooped the creature up into his arms and allowed her to butt her cold, wet nose against his face. The purring grew louder as she rammed her head against his nose and finally settled to a comfortable position cradled in her master's arms. While alternating between scratching behind Mystique's ears, and attempting to hang his overcoat with one hand, Adam continued to murmur softly to her. 

"I won't promise you that it won't happen again. Even I know I can't keep that promise. But I will absolutely try my best in the future," Adam promised.

Punching a code into the answering machine, Adam was unsurprised to hear the computerized voice speak up. "You have three messages.

"Message one."

"Adam, it's Professor Cage. I tried to get you at the lab, but I didn't have any such luck. I really wanted to apologize for my terrible behavior today, I've been having an absolutely wretched week, but that's no excuse for how I treated you. Allow me to take you to dinner some time, lad, and we can discuss the error of my ways."

Adam shook his head and smiled slightly. "Red was right. You are scared that I'm going to leave your little project."

"Message two."

"Hello, Neiman, Sue Lee. I tried you at the lab, and didn't get an answer, so I'm assuming you're already en route for home. Just checking to make sure you actually went home tonight. Your turn to drive tomorrow, kiddo. Night."

Settling on the couch, Adam settled the cat in his lap. He spoke sarcastically to the disembodied voice although he knew that the woman couldn't hear him, "Thanks Mom."

"Message three."

"Hello, Adam. It's Lucy." Adam bolted upright, his eyes widening as his heart skipped a beat. Mystique gave a yowl of protest and jumped to the floor, switching her tail in indignation. "I bet you're surprised to hear my voice. I'm calling because . . . after seeing you today, I thought that perhaps we should get together. And talk. It's been a year, and I really think it would be a good thing if we cleared the air between us. Why don't you call me, and we can have lunch sometime this week? I'll be looking forward to your call."

With a frustrated groan, Adam allowed his head to fall backwards against the couch, his eyes focused on the ceiling. This was just what he didn't need right now. Lucy wanted to talk to him. After all this time, she finally felt the need to talk to him and clear the air. Why now? Why after a year, a year in which they both had gone on with their lives.

Was there anything left to say that hadn't been said? Was there anyway to forget what had been said?

Springing off the couch and crossing over to the bar, Adam made quick work of finding what he was looking for. He downed the first glass of scotch, barely noticing the fiery burn the liquid made as it eased its way down his throat and into his stomach. The second one he took more slowly, sipping it while he leaned against the bar and wondered what sin he had committed to send him spiraling backwards into memories of Lucy Adams.

****

"I made dinner." Lucy greeted him at the doorway with a kiss on his cheek. "How was your day?"

Taking a quick look over his shoulder and out into the corridor, Adam made certain that he had the right apartment – and the right fiancée. The woman holding onto his arm was not the woman that he lived with, he was pretty certain of that. Lucy simply wasn't domestic. Lucy didn't wear silk blouses and short skirts and greet him at the door like a trophy wife. "Who are you and what did you do with Lucy?"

"I had a job interview today," the hard punch to his upper arm reassured Adam that this was indeed his Lucy. "I couldn't very well go in jeans and a sweatshirt, could I?" She turned away then, heading back towards the kitchen and Adam smiled softly as she walked away, watching the sway of her hips and enjoying the sight of her long legs. 

"Maybe you should have job interviews more often," he suggested playfully. 

"I know what you're thinking, Adam Neiman, and you can just forget it," Lucy peeked out of the kitchen and waved a large wooden spoon at him. "At least until after dinner."

The sight of candles and the good china on the dining room table gave him pause. A fresh salad in a crystal bowl adorned the center of the table, as well as a bowl of fresh fruit. Taking a bite out of one of the strawberries, Adam smiled. "I take it that the interview went well and we're celebrating . . . or are you just being optimistic?"

"We are celebrating. I'm even chilling champagne."

"Champagne? What happened to a nice bottle of white wine?"

"I wanted champagne." Lucy emerged carrying a large bowl of steamed vegetables and winked at him, "And you know that I always get what I want."

As she slid past him and placed the vegetables on the table, Adam encircled his arms around her waist. She was wearing new perfume too. Pulling her back against him, he nuzzled her neck affectionately. "Well, you got me."

"You were easy," Lucy tilted her head back and caught his mouth in a brief, playful kiss. 

"So, tell me all about this job you now have."

Lucy wiggled in his arms, turning and wrapping her arms around his neck. Her voice was soft and sultry with a hint of sulkiness that Adam recognized all too well. "Why don't we eat first, and talk later?"

Slowly reaching up and behind him, Adam disentangled her arms from his neck. "What I am not going to like about this Lucy?"

"Adam," Lucy purred and stepped closer then drew up stiffly when she realized that she wasn't hiding anything. She shifted her weight nervously from foot to foot, absently rubbing the knuckles of her left hand. "It's not a journalism job. It's a public relations position. I'll be a media liaison for a corporation." When he didn't respond, Lucy nodded and pulled out one of the dining room chairs. With a heavy sigh, she continued. "I'm going to be working for Psi Corporation."

All he could do was give a short bark of laughter. "Psi Corporation. You're kidding me, right?"

"No, I'm not." Lucy raked her hands through her hair and stared at him pleadingly. "I know, it's the last place that either of us expected me to work, but you don't know what they offered me, Adam. The credits, the perks, all of it. It was too good of a job to turn down. Inexperienced university graduates just don't get these kind of offers."

"But you did?"

"Yes."

"And you took it?"

"Yes! I would have been nuts not to!"

"And what about your ideals? What about your dreams and plans? You're going to throw them away just like that?"

"You're not being fair. It's just a job. I'll work here for a few years and go on to something else –"

"That's bullshit, Lucy!" Adam raised his voice for this first time since their argument had begun. "We both know it. No one works for Psi Control for a few years and then leaves. You work for them for life. Once you've been inside they don't let you out."

"And maybe that's not so bad. Job security."

"You're rationalizing. You're trying to find a reason for going against every principle that you have . . . or did you ever have them at all?"

"I took a great job. I'm sorry if you can't see past your dislike of your father to see that, but I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth."

"Yeah, that's right. Inexperienced college grads just don't get job offers like that. Did you ever stop to think that maybe my father is the reason you got it?"

Lucy sputtered, rising slowly to her feet. "Don't you even imply that I wasn't good enough to get this job on my own!"

"I didn't. You did. That was your rationalization the moment you told me," Adam reminded her darkly. "Maybe it's just something you don't want to think about. The power of the Neiman name and you're almost part of the family. How does it feel?"

"God damn you, Adam! You just can't stomach that thought that some of us have bigger goals in life than spending the rest of it teaching a lot of unappreciative students. Just because you want to waste away at the University –" She drew up suddenly, sharply, drawing a deep breath. "Adam, I didn't mean –"

"Yes, Lucy, you did." The cold calm to his words surprised him, because he was anything but cold and calm on the inside. Her words cut like knives. How many times had they crossed this bridge? How many times had she subtlety implied that she thought Adam could be and do so much more? 

The words hung between them in the dead and painful silence of the dining room. The candles flickered, their warm red and orange glow a mockery. The vegetables grew colder on the table while the fruit and salad grew warmer. Adam brushed past her, having nothing left to say and knowing that anything they said would only make matters worse.

"Where are you going?" Lucy demanded.

"Out," was the only answer he gave. 

The sound of the door slamming behind him was the sound of his perfect life falling to imperfect pieces.

*****

Trying his hardest to shake off the ghosts that crept up, Adam tossed back the remainder of the scotch and poured himself another glass. Somehow, he thought that it was going to be a very long and very sleepless night.

***


	8. Chapter Six: Repeat

**Eclipse - Book One: Darkness Falling**  
by M. Bumbarger

**Chapter Six : Repeat**

Adam had the strangest feeling of déjà vu. Here he was, three days later, back at The Centre. Not simply at The Centre, but at the same restaurant where he'd had yet another spectacularly bad lunch with his father. The same restaurant, with the same server, and the exact same table that looked out onto the London skyline. The only thing different was the company he kept, but even in that aspect the tension was the same.

"I'm glad that you called me, Adam." Lucy spoke from her seat across the table, a slight smile playing across her lips. "And I'm glad that you agreed to meet me."

"Curiosity," Adam said simply, taking a sip of his coffee. At least they got the coffee right in this place.

"I beg your pardon?" Lucy blinked at him and Adam's stomach clenched in disgust. Psi Control had changed her. Oh, he had expected it, but seeing it up close was another matter entirely. She didn't carry herself with the same carefree attitude that she once had. She was calmer now, more serene . . .more like all those stuck up rich women that she had once made fun of. 

"I was curious," Adam repeated. "I wanted to know why, all of sudden, out of the clear blue sky, you wanted to talk to me?"

"It wasn't sudden, Adam." Lucy traced the rim of her glass with a beautifully manicured nail, the sunlight glittering off her gold and diamond bracelet. Yet another change. The Lucy he knew never would have adorned herself like that. "I've often thought about you. You don't just stop loving someone when –"

Adam held up a hand to block her words. "Don't. Just don't." Adam leaned forward, holding her surprised and disappointed gaze. "Let's not play games, Lucy. Why now?"

"I'm telling you the truth. It's been a year, Adam. Over a year. Isn't it time that we let go of any old grudges and simply said bygones?" Lucy paused, her eyes pleading. "We started off as friends. Is it too much to hope that we can have that friendship again?"

"You want to be friends?" Adam spoke slowly, running her words around in his head. "The last time I saw you, you came to claim your two crystal lamps, your grandmother's heirloom cedar chest and handed me an engagement ring. We didn't even say goodbye, and now you want to be friends?"

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes, because we were never friends, Lucy. We were lovers, we were bedmates, but never really friends. The type of attraction we had doesn't lend itself well to friendship and I think that you know that.

"So, why don't we take off the gloves and you tell me why I'm really here? Because I'll tell you one thing, I hope for it's not for the food."

"Fine," Lucy straightened up, all pretense of sweetness fading from her. In the blinking of an eye, she was crisp and business-like, every inch the Psi Control Public Relations Coordinator. "As you're probably well aware, Psi Corporation has a controlling interest in several scholarly publications. One of these, I've taken on full control of as an advising editor."

"Well, that's sounds like it's a step closer to journalism than what you've been doing."

Lucy's eyes narrowed as she continued to speak to him. "We'd like to do a feature on the Quantum Teleportation study that Professor Cage, and Dr. Emmerling and you are working on at the University, and I would like to interview you."

"Why me? It's not my project. It's Cage and Emmerling."

"It's no secret that you're working with them, Adam."

"I answer questions and help them out when they need it," Adam sipped the coffee again. "But like I said, it's not my project."

"And it would be foolishness for me to allow this article to go to press without speaking to you. You're involved. Your opinion counts."

"And I ask you again: why?"

"Because everyone knows that you can think circles around those two old codgers," Lucy spat venomously, her tight control slipping. "What they come up with in two weeks time, you probably have already extrapolated in the space of five minutes. You're the brains behind them, Adam and everyone knows it."

"Fine, Lucy, I'll tell you what," Adam tossed his napkin on the table and motioned for the server. "You want to interview me, you'll get your interview. Call me, at the lab and we'll set something up. But don't try to con me by making me think you want to sweet talk your way back into my bed. That's a bit low, even for you."

"Yes, Mr. Neiman?" The server appeared, attentive and ready to serve.

"I'll be paying for my meal now," Adam informed the man.

"No," Lucy spoke up, her polite mask firmly back in place. The smile she gave the server was dazzling. "I'll be covering all of this."

The server looked from one to the other in confusion, his eye finally resting on Adam. For half a heartbeat, he debated overriding Lucy's offer, knowing full well that the server would be more afraid of offending him than of upsetting Lucy Adams. But he didn't. Instead he nodded to the man in a dismissal and watched him walk away.

"For someone who claims to hate their name, you certainly use it when you can," Lucy pointed out coldly.

"Whatever works," Adam smirked, pushing his chair back from the table and standing. Then reaching into his blazer pocket, he tossed one of his business cards on the table. "The lab number is on there. So is my electronic mail receiver. Call me next week, and I'll see when I'm available."

He left her simmering and glaring while he tried to contain his frustration until he was beyond the range of seeing eyes. Unfortunately, that didn't happen. He had to share the elevator with various people for the entire descent and by the time he reached the ground floor, he was convinced that he was about to explode.

Adam lashed out at the first available target that he could find, which just happened to be a large tree. He was dimly aware of people giving him a wide berth as he proceeded to silently test the laws of mass and motion with his fist. Several punches and cracked knuckles later, he simply grasped the sides of the tree and banged his forehead against it.

He would learn. One of these days he would learn. What had he really expected from a meeting with Lucy? More importantly, what had he wanted from a meeting with Lucy? A one hundred and eighty degree change? He knew that was impossible. They had both set down two very different paths and nothing could ever change that. And she wasn't the woman he knew a year ago anymore than he was the man she knew. Two different people with very different lives. 

The nerve of her. The utter audacity of her to think that she could simply sweet-talk her way into his heart again. Did she really think that he was that pliable, that easily swayed? Or was that just another reflection of the person she had become?

With a growl, he kicked the tree. He didn't know, he didn't really want to know. If Lucy Adams wanted her interview, she would get her interview. And then he would go on with his life again. His very lonely life. But, that was how he liked it, wasn't it? Isn't that what he told Sue and Red? No time for romance, no time for love. He lived and breathed physics. What more did he need?

"Keep telling yourself that," he muttered, banging his forehead against the rough bark again. That was the worse part of his encounter with Lucy. Not the feelings and emotions that resurfaced, not the memories of the bitter words they exchanged, but the realization that he was alone. He had friends, but that was all. He was alone . . . and sometimes, he was lonely.

"I didn't know these trees were hostile."

The sound of a voice made Adam blanch. Who was this idiot that didn't have the common sense to keep their distance from him the way everyone else did? Probably a doctor, or worse, a medical student trying to do their good deed of the day and see if he needed any help. Physical and mental.

Adam turned his head, intending to glare them into submission and give them a piece of his mind, but the words froze in his throat as he saw . . . her. 

"Amelie," he whispered her name.

"Are you all right?" She remained at a 'safe' distance, but he thought that he heard a genuine note of concern in her voice. But then again, he had thought that Lucy Adams might have changed. "Your hand is bleeding."

Adam glanced at his knuckles, and covered them in embarrassment. "Yeah, that tends to happen when you punch a tree."

"I can get someone for you. To see about your hand."

Cradling the sore knuckles, Adam shook his head. "No, there's no need. I've done worse. I tend to have a lot of these disagreements with hostile trees. And walls."

She smiled slightly at his words, her mouth turning up attractively. "I've never had any problems with these trees. They're always polite to me."

"I doubt that anything would have any reason at all to be hostile towards you."

Amelie gave him a shy smile and backed off a few paces. "If you're going to be all right, I really should be going."

"You're going to run off again aren't you?"

"I shouldn't be . . . I just wanted . . ."

Adam raised an eyebrow, leaning against the tree, still cradling his knuckles. He hated to admit it, but she was right. He did need medical attention. "We're just talking, Amelie. There's no law against that."

"Yes . . . but . . ." Those dark eyes pleaded with him. 

Adam extended his injured hand slowly so as not to frighten her. "You were just offering me medical attention."

"I'm not a medic."

"Too bad," Adam allowed his hand to drop in disappointment. "I guess I'm going to have to let you run off again then, aren't I?"

To his surprise and pleasure, she didn't turn and simply hurry away from him. Instead, she squared her shoulders in resignation and nodded in his direction, "Come with me, please," before turning on her heel and heading towards the inner sanctum.

Curious, Adam followed her, wondering what she was thinking of doing. Did she intend to call a medic for him? Leave him at the gates while she found a first aid kit? Certainly, she didn't intend to take him into the heart of The Centre . . . did she?

Adam watched as she ran the wristband across the scanner and waited for the door to open. Again, she motioned for him to follow her.

This was getting interesting.

The guard inside the door stopped him with a firm grip on his arm. "I'm sorry, I can't allow you in here without authorization."

Adam gave the man an understanding and sympathetic nod. "I understand. But you see, I hurt my hand and Am—Beta 2017 was going to take me to medical."

"There's a medical facility elsewhere."

Adam handed the man his pass card and leaned conspiratorially forward. "This is embarrassing. I had a bit of a disagreement with a co-worker and I took it out on a tree. I'd really rather not have to deal with medical or my co-worker seeing me like this."

The guard glanced at him uncertainly before taking the pass card and running it across the scanner. Immediately, the man's entire demeanor changed. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't recognize you. Although I thought you looked familiar. The resemblance and all."

He ignored Lucy's words echoing in his head. "For someone who claims to hate their name, you certainly use it when you can."

Whatever works indeed.

*** End of Chapter Six


End file.
